Bronwe
by ardhrianna
Summary: The story of Merry and Pippin's relationship.
1. Worship

Bronwe: Worship (1/?)  
BY ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction, in fact, I'm paying for it to even BE here. So don't sue me because I am flat broke. PrettySparklyDanceBoys broke my bank.   
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series.   
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to this site: http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :)  
  
******  
  
BRONWE: Worship  
  
  
  
Meriadoc Brandybuck hated being reminded that he was a child. He was a tweenager at the tender age of 24 and not a child, thankyouverymuch. If only the adults of his family would accept that. At the moment, he and his parents were staying with their Took relations in order to celebrate the Uncle Paladin's birthday.  
  
"MERRY" He heard Pearl Took's voice ring out and he cringed. Pearl had been driving him crazy since they'd arrived, trying to corner him into kissing her. Idly, Merry wondered what Pearl would say if she found out that he didn't like girls at all. She'd probably freak out and go running to his parents and then he'd have to deal with their disappointment. He *was* their only child, after all. So for their sakes, he kissed girls and pretended to like it. He just wished he could be more like his cousin, Bilbo, who didn't seem to like boys OR girls. Then again, everyone in the Shire did tend to call Bilbo "Mad Old Baggins," which should have told him something right there.  
  
"There you are!" Pervinca, the youngest of the three Took daughters, exclaimed, grabbing Merry's arm and dragging him out of his hiding place.  
  
"Meriadoc!" Pearl shrieked, landing a sloppy wet kiss on his cheek. Merry grimaced. This was going to be a long day. Even a pleading look over at his mother didn't help, as she was so busy talking to some of the other women-folk of the family. None of his male cousins were around, either. They were probably all out stealing mushrooms or doing something else equally forbidden. And he was stuck HERE with the women and the children.  
  
"Please, Elbereth, let me get out of this house," Merry muttered to himself, calling on a Goddess he'd heard Bilbo mention once. If she was good enough for the elves, she was good enough for him. And at long last, Elbereth seemed to answer him. Pearl and Pervinca were persuaded to sit amongst the women and gossip. Merry took advantage of their distraction and slipped out the back door, taking off at a run and never looking back. When he finally slowed down, he found himself looking out over the Brandywine River. "Finally," he groaned happily, sinking onto the grass on the bank. Closing his eyes, he finally allowed himself to relax and doze a bit.  
  
A voice beside him startled Merry out of his half-slumber. "My family getting to you?" it asked, sounding very amused. Merry's eyes shot open and he glared up at the intruder, his 16-year old cousin, Peregrin "Pippin" Took.  
  
"AH! Pippin! How'd you sneak up on me like that?"  
  
"Uncle Bilbo says I'm an elf," the younger hobbit said, plopping himself on the grass next to Merry. "Have you ever seen an elf?"  
  
"No, I haven't seen one, but I've heard Uncle Bilbo talk about them. He says that they're the most beautiful creatures on this world," Merry said, sitting up fully to face Pippin. The other sat beside him, plucking at a bright green blade beneath his feet. Merry reached over and pulled a dandilion towards him. "Uncle Bilbo also says that they love trees and everything outdoors."  
  
"What else does Uncle Bilbo say?" Pippin asked.  
  
"You really want to hear?" Merry looked closely at his cousin, seeing no evidence of teasing. Pippin seemed to be genuinely curious.  
  
"Sure. It's not like either one of us wants to go back to my house anytime soon," Pippin giggled, a high-pitched childish giggle. "I don't wanna go back ever! All my sisters talk about is boys and who they've kissed. It's gross! I'm a boy and I don't really want to think about kissing my sisters!"  
  
"No, Pippin," laughed Merry, "you don't kiss your sisters. When you get older, you'll start kissing hobbit lasses and maybe you'll find one that you love and you'll marry her."  
  
"Ew," was all Pippin said in response to that before changing the subject. "Girls."  
  
"You'll change your mind. I promise. Anyways, I thought you said you wanted to hear about the elves."  
  
"I do! Tell me about the elves, Merry. What does Uncle Bilbo say?" Pippin was practically bouncing with excitement. Merry lay back and stared up at the blue sky, running through some of Uncle Bilbo's tales mentally, picking the best one to start with. Pippin cuddled up into the crook of his neck as Merry began to speak, repeating all the tales of the elves that he'd learned from Bilbo. He told Pippin about the Lord Elrond's peaceful valley, and about King Thranduil's stone palace and the Undying Lands in the West, the place the elves sailed to at the end of their time on Middle-earth.   
  
Taking one small hand in his own, Merry rested his head against Pippin's blond curls and continued speaking, reciting what he remembered of the tale of Gil-galad, and various other bits and pieces of rhymes. Finally, his voice trailed off, words spent. Smiling gently at the now-sleeping hobbit curled against his shoulder, Merry watched the shadows lengthen until he, too, fell asleep.  
  
That was how Paladin Took and Saradoc Brandybuck found their sons the next morning, curled around each other in the soft, dewey grass. Exchanging a look, both fathers simply picked up their respective sons and began the long trek back to Tuckborough. 


	2. Discovery

Bronwe: Discovery (2/?)  
By ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction, in fact, I'm paying for it to even BE here. So don't sue me because I am flat broke. PrettySparklyDanceBoys broke my bank.   
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series.   
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :)  
  
******  
  
BRONWE: Discovery  
  
  
  
Frodo wasn't known for being stupid. In fact, Frodo and Bilbo Baggins were probably the most learned Hobbits in the entire Shire. Which is why it didn't take him very long to notice that Merry seemed to have grown an extra appendage after the Thain Took's birthday. An appendage that giggled, laughed, teased, and generally behaved like any normal Hobbit-child and answered to the name "Pippin".  
  
"Hullo, Merry, Pippin," Frodo greeted the two of them as they raced down the lane towards him one summer afternoon.  
  
"Frodo!" Pippin exclaimed, putting on an extra burst of speed and throwing himself at the older Hobbit. Frodo was prepared and just managed to catch Pippin before they both fell over.  
  
"You're getting heavy!" he scolded gently, giving Pippin's softening belly a poke. "All those good meals your Ma prepares, I'll bet." Pippin giggled and Frodo turned to his other cousin. "Morning, Merry."  
  
"Morning, cousin," Merry said, giving Frodo a one-armed hug, seeing as Pippin was still wrapped Frodo's waist. Pippin slowly unwound himself and raced off down the lane again, towards Bag End. Merry and Frodo followed along more slowly.   
  
Now that they were alone, Frodo shot his cousin an amused look. "Explain."  
  
Merry sighed. "I escaped from the house during his father's birthday week--Pervinca and Pearl were driving me insane! I ended up at the river, where Pippin found me. Seeing as neither one of us wanted to go back, I told him the elf-stories Bilbo used to tell us. Pippin started following me around afterwards and I just can't seem to shake him. It's like he worships me now."  
  
"How cute!"  
  
"Don't start. I've already heard it from his sisters, thanks... Pervinca's never going to let me live that down. She calls the two of us Pippery-" at this, Frodo snickered and Merry hit him on the shoulder. "Shut up, Frodo. Anyways, she just won't stop telling us how adorable we look together! I finally had to threaten to drown her in the River if she didn't stop her teasing."  
  
"Oh, come on. It can't be as bad as that," Frodo said.  
  
"Worse," answered Merry. "But I do have to admit that it's kind of cute. I can ask him to do anything and he'll do it."  
  
"Anything?" Frodo raised his eyebrow and Merry grinned.  
  
"I dared him to climb the Gaffer's best tree just the other day and he did it. And he didn't get caught, neither."  
  
Frodo's mouth dropped open. "Meriadoc Brandybuck! If he had have gotten himself caught..."  
  
"But he didn't, Frodo. Pippin's too good for that." Merry sounded proud and Frodo filed that little tidbit away for later use. The things Merry was going to teach this child...  
  
"Cousin, you should be glad that Sam isn't around. I don't imagine he'd be very pleased to hear that you dared Pippin to climb his father's tree."  
  
"By Elbereth! I'd forgotten!"  
  
At the expression on Merry's face, Frodo had to laugh. "Don't worry, this is Sam's day of rest... He's probably at the Inn, making eyes at Rosie Cotton."  
  
"So that's who he's mooning after. I've always wondered what takes him to the Inn almost every night."  
  
"Seems like this is a day for discoveries, cousin. You're learning what hero-worship is, along with who our Master Samwise likes, and I'm learning blackmail I can use against you-"  
  
"Frodo!"  
  
"What?" Frodo blinked innocently and Merry rolled his eyes.  
  
"You tell Sam about the tree and I'll tell Bilbo about Farmer Maggot's dogs."  
  
"You fight dirty," Frodo complained, then grinned. "But it's a deal."  
  
"FRODO! MERRY!" They heard Pippin's voice calling them from down the path. "TEA!"  
  
"Race you," Merry challenged, sprinting away with a laugh. Growling, Frodo ran after him, chasing the younger Hobbit all the way to Bag End where Bilbo and Pippin waited at the door. 


	3. Shadow

Bronwe: Shadow (3/?)  
By ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction, in fact, I'm paying for it to even BE here. So don't sue me because I am flat broke. PrettySparklyDanceBoys broke my bank.   
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series.   
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :)  
  
******  
  
BRONWE: Shadow  
  
  
  
One quiet morning not long after Merry's twenty-fifth birthday, as Merry went to visit Frodo and Bilbo, Sam Gamgee sidled up to him outside the front door.  
  
"Merry?" Sam ventured, wiping some dirt off his hands onto his pants.  
  
"Yeah?" Merry's hand was poised to knock, but he turned to face the other hobbit.  
  
"You have a shadow."  
  
"What?" The hand came down and the eyes widened.  
  
"Look behind you, fool," Sam said with a grin. Merry turned around and caught a glimpse of blond curls disappearing around the hedge. Sam looked at him. "Was that..."  
  
"Yes, that was Pippin," Merry groaned. Sam shook his head, grinning just as Frodo poked his nose out the window at the sound of their voices.  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
"Nothing, Mr. Frodo," Sam said. "Mr. Merry was about to knock when I told him about his shadow."  
  
"His shadow?" Frodo asked, then laughed. "OH! Yes... Merry's infamous shadow. How long has he been following you now?"  
  
"Too long," groaned Merry. "It was cute, for a while. Now I'm really starting to wonder about that hobbit."  
  
"He likes you," was Sam's answer.  
  
"I wish he wouldn't like me so much! I'm eight years older than he is! It's a bit hard to explain to my friends why I've got a child shadowing my every move."  
  
"Pippin's not..." Sam started, then stopped. "Well, I guess he is still a child. I mean, he's not of age yet, but he's not a little baby either."  
  
"He's 16. I'm 25. It's quite annoying to have this little hobbit following me everywhere!!" Merry threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. "I've tried losing him, but he always seems to find me. Even if we try and go somewhere where he can't follow, he does!"  
  
"Like Farmer Maggot's field?" Sam asked, eyes twinkling. "I overheard Fatty telling Ted about your trip into the mushroom patch last week."  
  
"Everyone's against me!" cried Merry, but he had to smile. "Although it sounds like I shall have to remind Fatty what a *secret* is."  
  
"He means well."  
  
"I know, Sam. I just wish he wouldn't tell half the Shire what we've been doing. Maybe next time we'll leave him at home with Pippin... there's a thought. Fatty can distract Pippin long enough for me to get somewhere without him following!"  
  
"Just humor him, Merry," Frodo suggested. "He'll grow out of it."  
  
"That's what you've been saying for months, cousin," groused Merry.  
  
"Is it really so bad to have someone who admires you?" Sam asked, giving Frodo a quick glance.  
  
Merry sighed. "I guess not. I'd rather he admire me than hate me."  
  
"There you go." With that, Frodo vanished from the window and reappeared at the door. "Come in for afternoon tea, Merry... and Sam, when you're done doing whatever it is you're doing out there in the dirt, feel free to join us."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Frodo!" Sam called as Merry and Frodo disappeared inside. And as the cousins had their afternoon tea and chat session, Merry swore he could hear Pippin's bright laughter above the sound of Sam's shears outside. 


	4. Nerve

Bronwe: Nerve (4/?)  
By ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction, in fact, I'm paying for it to even BE here. So don't sue me because I am flat broke. PrettySparklyDanceBoys broke my bank.   
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series.   
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :) And a HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed chapters 1 - 3. For some reason, I seem to like posting in threes, so next update you might get up to chapter 9! Gah, these things are addicting.  
  
******  
  
BRONWE: Nerve  
  
  
  
This was getting quite silly, Pippin decided. Ever since the day Merry had taken the time to tell him all those glorious tales of elves, he'd been unable to tear himself away from the older hobbit. He knew Merry thought of him as a pest but he couldn't help worshiping Merry, just a bit. Nobody else had ever taken the time to tell him stories, not even when he was a young child. His parents had been too busy with his older sisters to notice him.  
  
That morning when Merry had left for his daily visit to cousin Frodo, Pippin had followed him, as always. He loved being around Merry, even if the other found his presence annoying and his sister referred to them as one being (although she had stopped doing that -- Pippin wondered what Merry had threatened to do to her). Now he was waiting beside Frodo's fence, listening for Merry's tell-tale footsteps on the garden path.  
  
"Come out, Pippin," Merry's voice said suddenly and Pippin froze, ducking into a nearby hedge. He hoped Sam didn't notice the lovely hole he'd just made in the lovingly tended brush. But he couldn't talk to Merry, not now! This was his big problem--actually *talking*. He had no problems following and observing, but he was terrified of talking. Strange, since he'd been so talkative that night by the river yet he was now so shy. "Pippin, I know you're there."  
  
*You're not a coward, Pippin Took,* Pippin firmly told himself. *You just work up your nerve and you go over there and you talk to Merry. You'll feel a lot better when you do.*  
  
"Pippin?"  
  
Taking a deep breath, Pippin stood up and came out of the hedge. "I'm here." Was that really his voice, so high and squeaky? He cringed and waited for Merry to respond.  
  
"Ah, I thought I heard you." The fence gate opened and Merry appeared, looking amused. "You need to learn how to walk without shuffling your feet so much. You snuck up on me once... what happened?"  
  
Pippin blushed, stammering out his answer. "I... Distracted."  
  
"Ah." Merry's eyes were twinkling, most unlike his scowls of last week. And the eye-rolling the week before. "Some pretty hobbit lass caught your eye?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Come on, now... don't lie to me."   
  
"Not. No girl I like."  
  
"So what's got your tongue, cousin?"  
  
Pippin slowly forced himself to relax and answer Merry properly. "Nothing. You just startled me when you called my name, that's all." *I got out a whole sentence!* he rejoiced mentally.  
  
"Fine." Merry let let the subject drop, for which Pippin was very thankful. Just then, he caught sight of Frodo's face in the window.   
  
"Did you have a nice visit with Frodo?" He asked Merry, giving Frodo a small wave. Merry turned to see who he was waving at and laughed when Frodo waved back.  
  
"Oh, I always do. You should come one day."  
  
"Me?" Pippin squeaked. Back to the stammering again.  
  
"Well, yes. You're here anyways, might as well come in!"  
  
"I'm sorry..."  
  
"Don't apologize," Merry said. "But go on, now. Your parents must be quite worried about you."  
  
"Okay, Merry." Heart considerably lighter, Pippin ran off towards home. Merry shook his head and walked the other direction, wondering just what in the name of Elbereth had possessed him to do that. Now the child would NEVER leave him alone.  
  
/END 


	5. Limit

Bronwe: Limit (5/?)  
By ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction, in fact, I'm paying for it to even BE here. So don't sue me because I am flat broke. PrettySparklyDanceBoys broke my bank.   
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series.   
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :) Again, a HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed chapters 1 - 3. For some reason, I seem to like posting in threes, so next update you might get up to chapter 9! Gah, these things are addicting.  
  
******  
  
BRONWE: Limit  
  
  
  
This was really getting ridiculous, Merry decided, flopping onto a patch of grass beside the road. Pippin following him around had been cute for a while, but now it was just aggravating. It had only gotten worse after the incident outside Frodo's house, making Merry ready to kill someone. A little green-eyed Took hobbit, perhaps. Either way, killing was definitely on his agenda. The warmth of the sun on his face wasn't helping his temper any, so Merry got up with a sigh and began to head home.  
  
"Merry?" Pippin's voice asked timidly.  
  
"WHAT?" Merry growled back, spotting the younger hobbit sitting on the ground near to where he'd been laying. Pippin had followed him AGAIN, although this time he hadn't approached Merry as had been his wont recently. But he was still *there* and that bothered Merry quite a bit. Would he never get a moment's peace?  
  
"Where are you going?" Pippin asked, looking up at Merry with an eager expression on his face.  
  
"Nowhere."  
  
"I was just wondering if you were planning on going with Fatty to Farmer Maggot's field. I heard them-" Merry cut him off mid-sentence.  
  
"No, I'm not going with Fatty."  
  
"What about to the Inn? Sam's probably there..."  
  
"I'm not going to the Inn!" His tone was considerably sharper than it had ever been when speaking to the other hobbit and Merry saw an emotion flash across Pippin's face-hurt maybe. But then it was gone and Pippin's face was once again eager. Merry turned his back, not wanting to see those bright green eyes looking at him with such worship in them. He hated it, he really did. There was a long silence before Pippin spoke again.  
  
"Well, where were you going then? Can I come with you?"  
  
"NO!" Merry finally lost his temper. He whipped around to glare at the younger hobbit. "You can't come with me where I'm going! Not now, not ever. Understand? This little hero-worship thing has got to stop. It was cute, but now it's OVER! No more following me! You're just a child! I don't need a child holding me back all the time!"  
  
Pippin's eyes now shone bright with unshed tears. "Do I really hold you back?" He asked, voice quavering.  
  
"I can't exactly go anywhere with you hanging off my legs," Merry shot back harshly. "So yes, I guess that means you hold me back!"  
  
"I thought you liked me."  
  
"You were wrong." Merry suddenly had to question where this sudden burst of cruelty came from, but it felt so good to get his pent-up emotions out, even at the expense of Pippin's own feelings.  
  
"Well... okay."  
  
"Go home, Pippin. I don't want you here. And I don't want you coming back!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Merry." And as Pippin slowly trudged away in the opposite direction, towards Tuckborough, his shoulders were slumped. Merry idly wondered why he didn't feel happy that his shadow was finally gone. It was a good thing, right? That he was finally free of that child who had been holding him back from having fun?  
  
If it was such a good thing, why did he feel so bad?  
  
  
/end. 


	6. Lost

Bronwe: Lost (6/?)  
By ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction, in fact, I'm paying for it to even BE here. So don't sue me because I am flat broke. PrettySparklyDanceBoys broke my bank.   
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series.   
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :) Again, a HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed chapters 1 - 3. For some reason, I seem to like posting in threes, so next update you might get up to chapter 9! Gah, these things are addicting. This one's really, really short, but the next one will be longer. Promise.  
  
******  
  
BRONWE: Lost  
  
  
As Pippin slowly trudged home, he had to fight the tears that threatened to fall. He was 16 years old -- far too old to cry, even it felt like his heart had been ripped out and stomped on. "You're a fool, Pippin Took," he whispered to himself. "You let your hopes up and you learned your lesson, didn't you? Yes, you did. You knew Merry would never want to be around a child like you, but you bothered him anyway. But we've learned. We'll never do that again. Never again."  
  
But as his feet carried him closer to home, Pippin wondered what his family would say. His sisters would probably laugh at him, call him foolish for even thinking Merry would consider having a friend like him. His parents--if they even noticed him--would cluck and chalk the whole thing up to a bump on the road of life. Then they'd tell him that the experience would make him stronger in the end. But that didn't really help in the here and now.  
  
Other than Merry, Pippin didn't have any real friends. And now he didn't have any at all since Merry had just told him to get lost. Frodo was his cousin, yes, but he wasn't really a friend. Pippin was a bit uncomfortable with the age gap between them. Frodo seemed so old and wise sometimes while Pippin wasn't even a tweenager yet. And Bilbo, the only family member he really had, was out of the question. Everyone knew Bilbo Baggins was mad. Although he did tell the best stories about dwarves and dragons and elves.  
  
Elves.  
  
Stories about elves had been what started this in the first place. Merry had taken the time to pay attention to him, to tell him stories, and he'd latched on like a leech the Shire doctors used to cure some illnesses. But now his hold was broken. *He* was broken. And it wasn't going to be easy to put himself back together.  
  
Unwillingly, his feet carried him closer and closer to home until he finally saw the bright lights of his family's dwelling. Taking a deep breath and wiping his tears, Pippin forced himself to smile. He wouldn't tell them of his broken heart. It was much easier that way, and would be best in the long run. Just forget about what happened and keep on living. Pretend he'd never met Merry. Make everyone think he was fine. After all, if he could forget it happened, maybe that meant it didn't happen at all.  
  
And if he kept telling himself that, maybe he'd start to believe it.  
  
  
/end 


	7. Admitting

Bronwe: Admitting (7/?)  
By ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction, in fact, I'm paying for it to even BE here. So don't sue me because I am flat broke. PrettySparklyDanceBoys broke my bank.   
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series. A big thank you to everyone who's reviewed this little fic of mine (Marigold, Pip Morgan, Danielle, FictionHobbit, RachelStonebreaker, Dormouse, and Lia). Your kind words mean soooo much to me.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :) I'm posting four parts this go-round but if you've been to my site recently, you'll have already read them there. My site URL can be found on my profile, and I'm Alba. :) Kris is my best friend and fellow LOTR-nut.  
  
******  
  
BRONWE: Admitting  
  
  
  
It had been a month of silence. A month since Merry told Pippin to get lost. A month since he'd seen the younger hobbit. He knew he was supposed to be happy about it, but he just couldn't feel happy. He'd broken the heart of a kid who had done nothing wrong. He wasn't feeling very pleased with himself at the moment. Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone.  
  
When Sam had innocently asked where Pippin was one day, Merry had brushed him off. None of Sam's business where Pippin was. And Frodo hadn't even asked, which was a very good thing. Merry never could lie to his cousin. He knew Frodo wouldn't be happy with the way he'd treated Pippin, but he'd had no choice. He had done what he had to do and if Frodo didn't like that, then tough. Not Merry's problem.  
  
*Who are you trying to fool, Meriadoc?* Merry muttered to himself. *Not your problem!*  
  
"Merry? Are you alright?" Frodo's voice asked from somewhere in front of him. Merry opened his eyes and met his cousin's concerned gaze.  
  
"I'm fine, why?"  
  
"You've been standing at my gate for fifteen minutes, muttering to yourself. Sam got concerned when you wouldn't answer so he came to get me."  
  
"Fifteen minutes? I've been standing here for fifteen minutes?"  
  
"That's what I said." Frodo's eyes sparkled with half-concealed amusement and Merry good-naturedly rolled his eyes.  
  
"I was thinking."  
  
"Thinking so hard that you wouldn't respond even when Sam cuffed you upside the head?" Frodo asked and Merry shrugged.  
  
"Scared me right bad, too," Sam piped up from the garden.   
  
Merry just shook his head fondly. "I was *deep* in thought."  
  
"So that's what we smelled burning," teased Frodo before turning serious again. "Merry, What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing." Merry squirmed under the frankness of Frodo's gaze.  
  
"Meriadoc."  
  
"What? Frodo, nothing's wrong!"  
  
"Fine, fine. Nothing's wrong," Frodo sighed. "You would tell me if something was going on?"  
  
"Of course," Merry lied before lapsing into silence.  
  
Where's your shadow?" Frodo suddenly challenged, breaking the peacefulness of the day.  
  
"My what?"  
  
"Shadow. You know, that little hobbit named Pippin. Where is he?"  
  
"Oh. I haven't seen him for a couple of weeks now. I guess he gave up following me around." Merry tried to make his voice sound as convincing as possible. Frodo didn't need to know that Merry had been the reason Pippin gave up.  
  
"Funny... Pippin doesn't seem to be the type to just give up like that," Frodo mused. "Why would a child who adores you suddenly just give up?"  
  
"Maybe he found something more interesting than me."  
  
"Meriadoc. What aren't you telling me?"  
  
"Why do I have to be hiding something?" Merry cried, frustrated. "I. Am. Fine! I'm happy that little brat isn't following me around anymore! Hear that? I am HAPPY. Is that such a bad thing?" Glaring at Frodo, Merry crossed his arms over his chest. It was a good thing that Pippin was gone. It was.  
  
Frodo glared back. "It is a bad thing when you don't say it like you mean it."  
  
"I do mean it!"  
  
"Keep telling yourself that and maybe you'll believe it." Frodo gave one last glare before stalking to his front door and slamming it closed behind him, making Sam jump in surprise.  
  
"But I haven't done anything wrong!" Merry told himself. "This has got to have something to do with Pippin. Even when he's not around, he's harassing me! But I'm glad he's gone, really I am."  
  
"Why don't I believe you?" Sam asked, coming over to the gate.  
  
"Just." Merry paused, running his hand over his eyes. "Just leave me alone, okay?"  
  
"Mr. Merry..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Mr. Frodo knows everything. Mr. Paladin came to see him yesterday."  
  
Merry raised his eyebrows. "Did he now?"  
  
"And Mr. Paladin said that Pippin ain't been outside his room for nearly a week and that he's spent a lot of time crying. Every time somebody mentions your name, he cries harder. So Mr. Frodo reckoned that you'd said something to him. Something real bad."  
  
"Does nobody mind their own business in this place?"  
  
"This is the Shire, Mr. Merry. Everybody knows everyone else's business."  
  
Merry had to smile a bit at that. "Point taken, Sam. But what happened between Pippin and I is really none of anyone else's concern."  
  
"Maybe it is, Mr. Merry," Sam said slowly. "Maybe it is somebody else's concern when lies are told."  
  
"What do you mean by that, Samwise Gamgee?"  
  
"Nothing." Sam's normally expressive face was closed-off, secretive. Merry narrowed his eyes slightly. "I'm just saying that lying is the worst thing one hobbit can do to another." Leaving Merry to stew on that for a while, Sam went back to work. Giving Frodo's door one last look, Merry started off down the lane towards Buckland. He had a lot to think about.  
  
"I didn't lie," Merry whispered. "I didn't. I was telling the truth... Pippin was driving me crazy, following me around like that. He was! It's tiresome having a shadow. He should have been out playing with children his own age, not following me. His sisters should have told him not to get his hopes up. His parents might have looked after him better. Maybe then none of this would have happened. Not that I'm sad it did. No. I'm fine. Happy, in fact. I'm glad I'm on my own, free to do what I want, when I want. No shadows, no nothing. Just me and my imagination." His feet took him closer to home, each step reminding of what Pippin must have done not long before. No, he wouldn't dwell on that. His mind was nowhere near hobbit children around 16 years of age. No. Merry was happy now that he didn't have one around all the time. It was great. Really it was.  
  
"Ah, who are you trying to fool, Meriadoc?" he finally muttered to himself, stopping dead in the middle of the road. "You're miserable now that the kid isn't following you around. You MISS him." Finally admitting to himself what he'd been afraid to let himself think all along, Merry let out a huge sigh. "Well, fool, you've admitted it. You miss Pippin. Now what are you going to do?" 


	8. Sorry

Bronwe: Sorry (8/?)  
By ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction, in fact, I'm paying for it to even BE here. So don't sue me because I am flat broke. PrettySparklyDanceBoys broke my bank.   
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series. A big thank you to everyone who's reviewed this little fic of mine (Marigold, Pip Morgan, Danielle, FictionHobbit, RachelStonebreaker, Dormouse, and Lia). Your kind words mean soooo much to me.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :) I'm posting four parts this go-round but if you've been to my site recently, you'll have already read them there. My site URL can be found on my profile, and I'm Alba. :) Kris is my best friend and fellow LOTR-nut.  
  
******  
  
BRONWE: Sorry  
  
  
  
This was going to be the hardest thing Merry had ever had to do. Thanks to a much-needed kick in the backside courtesy of Sam and Frodo, he was going to swallow his pride and apologize to Pippin.  
  
Once he got his courage up, that is.  
  
"Staring at the door isn't going to make it magically open," an internal voice informed him. "You're going to have to walk up to that door and knock on it yourself." Taking a deep breath, Merry knocked on the door. Pearl opened it seconds later and glared.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"To talk to your brother."  
  
"Well, he doesn't want to talk to you. So you can just leave before I have to hurt you." The thought of Pearl actually hurting him was too much to bear and Merry let out a snicker. "What's so funny? You HURT him, Meriadoc Brandybuck. If you think I'm going to let you do it again, you've got another think coming and you can just go back home right this instant."  
  
"I just want to talk to him, Pearl. I promise."  
  
Pearl still didn't look convinced but finally relented. "If you make him cry, Merry, I will hunt you down and kill you."  
  
"I won't."  
  
"Wait here. I'll go ask Pippin if he wants to talk to you." With that, the hobbit girl disappeared down the hallway towards the bedrooms. Crashes were heard and one particularly ear-piercing yell before Pearl returned with the first evidence of a black eye forming. "He'll be out in a minute."  
  
"Did he..."  
  
"I'm fine. I'll be in the kitchen if he needs me." Pearl bustled out of the room just as Pippin came in. Merry had to raise his eyebrows at the pale face and the haunted eyes. The younger hobbit looked horrible!  
  
"Still silent as an elf," Merry said to him, choosing not to mention Pippin's looks. "Didn't even hear you come down the hall."  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"To talk."  
  
"Talking is what got us here in the first place."  
  
Merry sighed. Pippin wasn't going to make this easy. "Look. I just. I just wanted to apologize."  
  
Pippin's eyebrow went up in a very adult expression. "Really."  
  
"Yeah. I... I may have been a little mean."  
  
"Go on."  
  
"And... I shouldn't have said what I did. You're not a bother. I actually kinda liked having you around."  
  
"Did you now?"  
  
"Dammit, Pippin, I'm trying here!" Merry yelled.  
  
"What do you expect me to say, Merry?" Pippin yelled back. "Jump into your arms, cry, and say I forgive you? Sorry, not going to do that. I looked up to you, you know. And when you told me to get lost I felt like a part of me had been ripped out. So excuse me if I don't forget so easily what you said and what you did."  
  
"I'm trying to fix it. That's all I want. I want us to be friends again, Pippin."  
  
"To be friends again? I didn't know we were friends before. I thought I was just some annoying kid who followed you around everywhere and drove you crazy."  
  
"I was wrong." There, he'd said it. He was wrong. He was wrong and he was willing to admit it.  
  
Pippin sat down heavily across from him. "You were wrong."  
  
"Yes, I was wrong and I apologize. I'm sorry, Pippin."  
  
"You're not lying to me? Trying to make me feel better?"  
  
"No. I honestly and truly mean it. I'm sorry."  
  
"That's something I never thought I'd hear you say," Pippin said, voice shaking a bit as he struggled to control his emotions. "I thought you hated me."  
  
"I don't hate you, Pip," said Merry, going over to kneel on the ground at Pippin's feet. "I never hated you."  
  
"Then why did you do it?"  
  
"I don't know... But I won't make excuses for myself and say I was having a bad day or whatever. I did it, and I can't change it. I just hope you can forgive me." Merry's voice and eyes were sincere as he spoke and Pippin felt the little knot of anger and pain he'd had inside of him for a week begin to dissolve.  
  
"You mean it?"  
  
"I mean it, Peregrin Took." Without warning, Pippin launched himself into Merry's arms, finally giving in to the tears that had been threatening to fall. Merry just closed his eyes and held the younger hobbit tighter. He knew he was lucky Pippin was so forgiving, although it would take time for him to forget. Opening his eyes, Merry caught sight of Pearl standing in the doorway, a bright smile on her face.  
  
"Thank you," she mouthed before slipping out of the room again, leaving the two friends alone. 


	9. Apples

Bronwe: Apples (9/?)  
By ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction, in fact, I'm paying for it to even BE here. So don't sue me because I am flat broke. PrettySparklyDanceBoys broke my bank.   
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series. A big thank you to everyone who's reviewed this little fic of mine (Marigold, Pip Morgan, Danielle, FictionHobbit, RachelStonebreaker, Dormouse, and Lia). Your kind words mean soooo much to me.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :) I'm posting four parts this go-round but if you've been to my site recently, you'll have already read them there. My site URL can be found on my profile, and I'm Alba. :) Kris is my best friend and fellow LOTR-nut.  
  
******  
  
BRONWE: Apples  
  
  
  
It was a perfect summer day, Pippin decided. The sun was shining, birds were singing, the soft drone of bees filled the air, and above it all was the cheerful sound of the laughter of hobbit children. Nothing could be better than this.  
  
"What are you smiling at?" Merry asked, coming to stand beside Pippin as the younger hobbit watched some of the Shire's children play a game in the nearby field.  
  
Pippin turned to look at Merry, his smile growing wider. "Isn't this perfect?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"This day. Just... everything is so perfect!" Pippin couldn't resist a small skip that sent both he and Merry into a fit of gigles. When they'd finally recovered, Merry gave Pippin a fond look.  
  
"How I miss the innocense of childhood sometimes."  
  
"I'm not a child!" Pippin exclaimed.  
  
"No, you're not. But you still see some things aso nly a child can. It's not a bad thing, Pip."  
  
"You make it sound like you're so old. Frodo's a lot older than you are!"  
  
"So he is," Merry laughed. "But I do feel old sometimes."  
  
"You're not old," insisted Pippin. "You're perfect!"  
  
"Come home to Buckland with me and tell my parents that!"  
  
"I will!" Pippin gave Merry a smile and turned back to the children, laughing delightedly at their antics. Merry had to admit that Pippin was cute like this, his mind all made up. This was a new side of the younger hobbit that Merry hadn't yet seen. Then again, he was beginning to see a lot of new sides to Pippin.  
  
This was the first day they'd spent entirely together since Merry had apologized and it had gone surprisingly well. Pippin had grown up in the short time they'd been apart and was no longer so ready to worship everything Merry did. He still tended to shadow sometimes, but Merry didn't mind. Sooner or later, he'd come out of the shadows and join in the fun. After a few times, the other hobbits had gotten used to Pippin's presence and simply accepted him as one of their group. And Merry was beginning to realize that Pippin wasn't as childish as he'd originally thought. Gazing around contendedly, Merry's eyes set upon a tree about 100 yards away -- the Gaffer's prized apple tree.  
  
"Hey, Pip."  
  
"What?" Pippin never took his eyes off the children.  
  
"Race you to the tree." Not waiting for a response, Merry took off running, hearing Pippin's angry shout behind him. "Come on, slowpoke!"  
  
"I'll show you, old man!" Pippin screeched, chasing after Merry. Laughing, the two raced for the tree, each vowing victory. In the end, it was Merry's longer arms that proved to be the deciding factor. Touching the tree seconds before Pippin, Merry tossed his friend a triumphant look.  
  
"I win!" he crowed, dancing around victoriously. The victory dance was cut short, however, when an apple struck the side of his head, courtesy of Pippin. Grinning, Merry grabbed an apple of his own and fired back, narrowly missing his target. And as a full-scale apple war erupted, Merry had to agree with Pippin.  
  
This WAS a perfect day. 


	10. Higher

Bronwe: Higher (10/?)  
By ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction, in fact, I'm paying for it to even BE here. So don't sue me because I am flat broke. PrettySparklyDanceBoys broke my bank.   
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series. A big thank you to everyone who's reviewed this little fic of mine (Marigold, Pip Morgan, Danielle, FictionHobbit, RachelStonebreaker, Dormouse, and Lia). Your kind words mean soooo much to me.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :) This is the promised fourth part, and I'm not quite sure where to go from here. Hopefully will have something new by the end of the weekend, but no promises.  
  
******  
  
BRONWE: Higher  
  
  
  
"Well, here we are," Merry said, turning to face Pippin. "The highest tree in the whole Shire."  
  
"You must be able to see all the way across the Sea from the top of that thing!"  
  
"Why don't you climb up it and see?"  
  
"No way, Merry! What if we get caught?"  
  
"You managed to climb the Gaffer's tree without being caught," Merry reminded him. "You're too good to get yourself caught."  
  
Pippin blushed a bit at the compliment, but wasn't going to be so easily swayed. "I don't know, Merry..."  
  
"Are you too scared?"  
  
"No, of course not!" Pippin bristled. "What if I fall?"  
  
"That's what I'm here for. I'll catch you."  
  
"Promise?" Pippin's eyes bored into his and Merry squirmed a bit.  
  
"I promise."  
  
"Will you climb the tree with me?"  
  
"It won't take both of us. You'll just have to climb up there and give me a full description of what you see. Tell me what it's like to be that high. Tell me what it looks like from way up there."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Positive."  
  
"Well... okay then." Pippin glanced up at the tree before quickly stripping off his shirt and handing it to Merry. Taking one last deep breath, Pippin began the long climb.  
  
"You're doing great, Pip!" Merry shouted when Pippin was halfway up. He was almost level with most of the trees in the Shire, but he had a long way yet to go on this one.  
  
"Thsi thing just won't end!" Pippin shouted back. "But this is fun! You should try it!"  
  
"Maybe another time. But keep going and tell me what you see when you reach the top!" There was a long silence as Pippin continued to climb, finally vanishing from Merry's sight. "Pippin?"  
  
"Wow!" Pippin called down. "This is amazing, Merry!"  
  
"What do you see?"  
  
"Everything! I can see the mountains from up here! I think they're the ones from Uncle Bilbo's tale. You know, the one with the dwarves and the dragon?"  
  
"I know which one you mean. What else?"  
  
"The Brandywine."  
  
"We see that all the time! What about the other direction? Opposite the mountains?"  
  
"I can't even describe it... it's beautiful." Pippin fell silent again for a time. "I'm coming back down, Merry."  
  
"I'm here, Pip." Slowly, slowly, Pippin made his way down the tree until he finally sat on a branch about five feet above Merry's head. "What did you see?" Prompted Merry.  
  
"Heaven," was all Pippin said, dropping down the last few feet and turning to look Merry in the eyes. "I saw Heaven." 


	11. Overprotected

Bronwe: Overprotected (11/?)  
By ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction, in fact, I'm paying for it to even BE here. So don't sue me because I am flat broke. PrettySparklyDanceBoys broke my bank.   
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series. A big thank you to everyone who's reviewed this little fic of mine. It's a real blast writing it!  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :)  
  
******  
  
BRONWE: Overprotected  
  
  
"I said no, Pippin."  
  
"But Da!"  
  
"NO. And that's final."  
  
"But everyone's going to be there!"   
  
"You're not everyone, Peregrin Took. You're MY son and I said you're not going. It's far too dangerous for you to be among adult hobbits on nights such as these."  
  
"But Da! You're letting Pearl and Pervinca go!" Even as he protested, Pippin knew he was fighting a losing battle. His father wasn't going to let him go to Bilbo and Frodo's birthday party. Simply because his father was too damn overprotective.  
  
"Pearl and Pervinca are older than you are. When you're their age, you can go, too. But tonight, NO."  
  
"Fine, fine, whatever."  
  
"Don't take that tone of voice with me, my young hobbit. You're not too old for me to turn over my knee!"  
  
"Oh, bugger off! I hate you!" Knowing he sounded much younger than his sixteen years, Pippin flung those words at his father and raced down the hall to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him with comforting 'thud' and locking it. The Took's roar of anger nearly shook the timbers of the ceiling, but Pippin ignored the sound. He was never going to forgive his father for this. He wasn't.  
  
"Pippin!" Pearl's voice called through the door. "Come on, Pippin. You're being such a baby about all this."  
  
"And girlish," Pervinca chimed in. "That's something a girl would do!"  
  
"Go away," he shouted back. "You're not the ones who have to stay home on Bilbo and Frodo's birthday!"  
  
"Baby, baby, baby!" his sisters taunted, rattling his doorknob for good measure.  
  
"Sod off!"  
  
"You are SUCH a child," Pearl snapped.  
  
"Baby!" Pervinca added for good measure. "We'll bring our little baby back some cake!" The sound of their laughter and footsteps faded down the hall and Pippin finally allowed the tension in his body to drain away. He heard his sisters greeting his parents, and then the front door open.  
  
"If I find out you've left this house, Peregrin Took," his father's voice boomed, "you won't be able to sit down for a month! Do you hear me?" Silence was Pippin's answer and his father slammed the front door on his way out. When it closed, the young hobbit carefully got up and unlocked his door. The entire hole was silent and he was alone. Making his way to the living area where the fireplace was still warm from the fire just recently put out, he curled up in the big armchair and brooded sadly about the wonderful party he was missing.  
  
*****  
  
Knocking on the door interrupted his brooding later that night. Glaring at the door wasn't helping as the pounding only got louder. Finally, he got up to answer it.  
  
"Why aren't you at the party?" Merry asked, breathlessly, nearly falling head over heels at Pippin's feet.  
  
"Da said no. And if he catches me out, I'll be grounded until I'm Frodo's age!"  
  
Merry laughed. "I'm sure it's not as bad as that."  
  
"It is. Believe me."  
  
"Then I'll just have to bring the party to you." Pulling out a small box with a flourish, Merry handed it to Pippin. "Courtesy of dear cousin Frodo. He knew your Da wasn't going to let you come so he gave this to me to give to you. He said it was for both of us."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Open it and see!" Merry urged, watching eagerly as Pippin tore the box apart to see what was inside. When he caught sight of his gift, he began laughing as he pulled out a carved and painted wooden apple.  
  
"Oh, do I love Frodo! Look what he's given us!" Holding out the apple, Pippin wiped tears of mirth away with his other hand.  
  
"There's even some Elvish written on it!" Merry exclaimed, turning the small object over and over in his hands, amazed at the work that had gone into it. "Friends are forever, it says."  
  
"Sam probably helped him make it," said Pippin, taking the apple back. "I shall put it on my dresser so I can look at it every morning when I wake up."  
  
"But Frodo said it was for both of us!"  
  
"I touched it first!"  
  
"Mine!" Merry shouted.  
  
"Mine!" Tugging at the apple, neither one felt the centre give way until they ended up sprawled on the floor in a most undignified manner, each holding one half of the apple. "Now look what you've done!"  
  
"It wasn't me!"  
  
"It was!" Pippin said, glaring. "You broke Frodo's present!"  
  
"No, I didn't."  
  
"Yes, you did!"  
  
"No, I didn't. Honestly. Look at how the pieces fit together, Pip. It was meant to break in half."  
  
"One half for you..."  
  
"And one for you."  
  
"Dear Frodo," Pippin said fondly, sounding much older than he was. "Remind me to thank him."  
  
"Was it worth it?" Merry asked, scooting closer to Pippin on the floor. "Not going to Frodo's party?"  
  
"Now that you're here it is," Pippin told him. "I just wish my father wasn't so over-protective of me. I'm not a child."  
  
"I know you're not."  
  
Sighing once more for good measure, Pippin's eyes settled on a board that was lying on the table. "Want to play a game of chess?"  
  
"Sure. I'll wager a trip to Farmer Maggot's field that I'll beat you two out of three games."  
  
"I'll take that bet." And they were off, not even stopping play when Pippin's family came home. They were tied at one game a piece and Pippin was starting to use dirty tactics to win. Finally The Took put a halt on the game when he noticed that Merry was about to throw the board at Pippin, earning groans from both hobbits.  
  
"None of that, you two. It's late and you should be getting to bed, Peregrin. We will have to discuss your earlier behavior in the morning."  
  
"Yes, Da." Slinking off to his room, Pippin gave Merry one last wave before disappearing down one of the many hallways.  
  
"Now, Master Meriadoc. I believe it's time for you to head home. I'll take you myself... I don't want you walking alone in the dark."  
  
"Thank you, Uncle Paladin," Merry said obediently, although he now understood exactly what Pippin meant. The Took WAS rather overprotective.  
  
But that's what fathers were for. 


	12. Playing

Bronwe: Playing (12/?)  
By ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction, in fact, I'm paying for it to even BE here. So don't sue me because I am flat broke. PrettySparklyDanceBoys broke my bank.   
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series. A big thank you to everyone who's reviewed this little fic of mine. It's a real blast writing it!  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :)  
  
******  
  
BRONWE: Playing  
  
  
December blew in cold and white that year, with six inches of snow falling by mid-day on the first. The hobbit children were out soon after, throwing snowballs, making snowmen and sledding down the big hill of Bagshot Row.  
  
"It's beautiful," Merry commented to Pippin as they stood at the big window of Bag End, overlooking the Row.  
  
"So clean and white," Pippin said.  
  
"Were we ever that young?" Frodo chimed in, watching a pair of children race each other down the steep slope.   
  
Merry rolled his eyes fondly. "You're not that old, Frodo, so stop it."  
  
"I'm older than both of you."  
  
"But not older than me!" Bilbo yelled from the kitchen. "So quiet, all of you!"  
  
"What did I do?" Pippin cried.  
  
"You were there. Now, are you three going to help me or not?"   
  
"We're actually allowed IN?" Merry said sarcastically, rounding the corner and narrowly missing getting nailed with a ball of dough. Bilbo had been shut up in the kitchen all day, not even letting Frodo in to get some tea at elevensies.  
  
"Shut up and come here," Bilbo ordered, handing Pippin a bowl and Frodo a knife.  
  
"Hey, where's Sam?" asked Pippin. "Isn't he usually here by now?"  
  
Bilbo glanced up from his own bowl to look over at Pippin. "The Gaffer's caught some kind of cold, so I told Sam to stay home and help his Mam with the little ones."  
  
"Poor Sam!"  
  
"Poor Sam?" Frodo broke in, "poor Ma Gamgee! Having to put up with all those children PLUS her sick husband?" Merry snorted and Pippin giggled at that, while Bilbo rolled his eyes.  
  
"Be nice," he scolded.  
  
"Sorry!" three voices chorused at once. Bilbo shook his head at them, earning himself a round of rude noises and razzing from the young hobbits.  
  
"Keep this up and you won't get to eat what we're making."  
  
"What *are* we making, Bilbo?" Frodo asked.  
  
"Pies. The Gaffer gave me some of his best apples a few days ago and they're perfect for making pies. Just in time for Yule."  
  
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh," came the hobbit chorus again. Bilbo laughed and handed Merry half the apples in his bowl.  
  
"You and Frodo slice these," he said, "while Pippin and I make the dough." Pippin eagerly bounced over with his bowl, watching Bilbo carefully and copying his movements.  
  
"Will the Gaffer be all right?" Merry asked and Bilbo nodded.  
  
"In a few days, he'll be fine. Just needs a bit of bed rest and WHAT in the name of Elbereth are you two doing?" Frodo and Merry were flicking small pieces of apple at each other, keeping a mental tally of hits. Frodo was winning at the moment, but only because Merry had stopped listening to Bilbo and was now more than little distracted by the sight of Pippin happily kneading dough with the older hobbit. Frodo managed to actually hit him in the face with his next missile and Merry squeaked angrily.  
  
"What happened?" Pippin exclaimed, hopping over to see if Merry was hurt.  
  
"Frodo hit me with a piece of apple."  
  
"FRODO."  
  
"Sorry, Uncle Bilbo! But Merry wasn't paying attention and I, um… didn't want him to cut himself. Yes, that's it."  
  
"I wasn't born yesterday, Frodo," Bilbo told his nephew, sighing. "Just. Please don't do it again."  
  
"Yes, Uncle Bilbo… HEY!" Pippin had sneakily thrown a piece of dough at Frodo, hitting him square between the eyes.  
  
"Pip!" Merry and Bilbo both exclaimed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You little…" Grabbing a piece of apple, Frodo fired it across the kitchen, missing Pippin by an inch and hitting the counter. Pippin reached into Merry's bowl and grabbed his own apple, under-handing it to nail Frodo in the chin. Frodo's next apple hit Bilbo in the chest while Merry narrowly avoided the egg that Pippin threw in retaliation. A full-fledged food fight erupted between Frodo and Pippin, both grabbing whatever missiles were closest to them until the entire kitchen was covered in apples, eggs, dough, flour, and sugar.  
  
"FRODO BAGGINS!" Bilbo finally thundered.  
  
"PEREGRIN TOOK!" Merry also yelled.  
  
"Clean this up!" Both said, glaring at the other two.  
  
"I am going to go change my shirt and when I get back this kitchen had BETTER be clean," Bilbo threatened, heading down the hall to his room.  
  
"Have fun," said Merry, attempting to sneak out but Frodo grabbed his arm.  
  
"Not so fast! You were part of this too!"  
  
"Pffft."  
  
"Boys," Bilbo called. "Stop arguing and start cleaning!"  
  
"Yes, Bilbo!" Grumbling, Frodo threw a rag at Merry and handed Pippin the sponge. "Start cleaning."  
  
"What are you doing to do?" Merry demanded.  
  
"Wash the dishes."  
  
"Okay then." The kitchen was cleaned without further major incident, except for some minor flicking of water and soapsuds in Pippin's direction, to which Frodo received a sponge to the nose. But when Bilbo walked back in twenty minutes later, the kitchen was clean, and the remaining apples were in one bowl, waiting to be sliced.   
  
"Good thing I didn't pull out all the Gaffer's apples…" Bilbo muttered to himself. "Well, you three rascals, it's something. Now get out of here, all of you. You're more hindrance than help. I'll let you know when something's ready." Affectionately ruffling Frodo's hair, Bilbo shooed them out of the room before closing the curtain he'd recently installed over the door. The sounds of pounding could be heard from behind the curtain and Merry looked at Frodo.  
  
"WHAT is he doing in there?"  
  
Frodo shrugged. "Don't look at me."  
  
"Come play chess with me," Pippin interrupted them, settling himself behind the chess board that Bilbo kept on the table. "Two out of three?"  
  
"You still owe me from Bilbo and Frodo's birthday!" Merry said, plopping down into the other spot. Frodo sat in the middle, watching with a smile as the game began, fast and furious. And when Bilbo finally emerged from the kitchen an hour later, they were still playing.  
  
"DIE!" Pippin shrieked when Merry made a particularly nasty move.  
  
"EVIL!" Merry shouted back, throwing a discarded pawn across the table.  
  
"Let's leave them to their game," Bilbo said in Frodo's ear, "and have some of that nice, warm pie."  
  
Frodo looked up at his uncle, face shining. "They're just…" Pippin's queen flew by his face and Frodo giggled, hastily retreating with Bilbo into the kitchen as the formerly calm chess game deteriorated into a full-blown wrestling match.  
  
"Don't break the chair!" was all Bilbo said, watching from the kitchen as the two rolled around on the floor in the next room. Over their respective pieces of pie, Frodo and Bilbo shared a laugh. "Here's hoping they never change."  
  
"I'll eat to that." Offering a salute with his fork, Frodo shook his head at his friends. Such children, the pair of them.   
  
But, as Bilbo often told him, a bit of playing never hurt anyone. 


	13. Silence

Bronwe: Silence (13/?) By ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction. I am merely using them for my own enjoyment. ;) So don't sue me because I am flat broke. PrettySparklyDanceBoys broke my bank.  
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series. A big thank you to everyone who's reviewed this little fic of mine. It's a real blast writing it!  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :)  
  
******  
  
BRONWE - Silence  
  
It was strange for the place to be so silent, Pippin decided. Normally, the sounds of his large family would fill the rooms with their chatter and laughter, but today everyone was either out playing in the freshly-fallen snow or, in the case of his parents, still asleep.  
  
"Come play with us!" Pervinca had pleaded earlier that morning, tugging on his shirt sleeves.  
  
"Can't. Merry's coming over," he'd told her, grinning when she'd rolled her eyes. "He promised he'd take me out skating!"  
  
"Silly hobbit." Tugging on his curls, Pervinca had left him alone, gathering up the various cousins and siblings around the house to have a giant snowball fight in the front yard.  
  
"Where are you, Merry?" Pippin muttered to himself, looking out the window. He laughed when Pervinca got a snowball to the face, courtesy of one of his cousins and for a moment, he wished he'd said yes.  
  
"Why aren't you out there?" his mother asked from behind him.  
  
"Merry's coming," Pippin said shortly, never taking his eyes off the front gate.  
  
"Sweetie, I don't think he's coming."  
  
"He'll be here," insisted Pippin. "He promised."  
  
"Call the kids in to get warmed up," was all his mother said. "It's nearly lunchtime and they'll need to clean up a bit before they can eat."  
  
"Yes, Ma." Going to the door, he watched his family play for a bit before calling them in. Pervinca was the last in the house, giving him a sad look as she walked in, brushing snow off her collar.  
  
"Merry's not here?" she said softly to him and he shook his head. "Maybe he just had a bit trouble getting here. It snowed an awful lot last night."  
  
"I hope so, 'Vinca," he whispered.  
  
"He'll come. He always does."  
  
"I know." And Pippin went back to his watching while his sister went to get cleaned up. Lunch came and went with no sign of Merry and Pippin finally started wondering if his mother was right and Merry wasn't going to come. As Pervinca came back in the room, Pippin finally turned away from the window. No sense in watching for something that was never going to come.  
  
"Read a book to me?" Pervinca asked him, curling up on the floor beside him and placing her head in his lap. This was their second-favorite pastime on snowy days - to read to each other by the warmth of the fire.  
  
"You just like my voices," Pippin gently teased his sister, earning a snort.  
  
"I do better voices thank you," she insisted, getting up to grab a book off the bookshelf before throwing herself back down beside him. "I've always done better voices."  
  
"We only said that so you wouldn't get mad."  
  
"OH!" Pervinca smacked him in the chest and handed him the book. "Here, read this one."  
  
"You're older me! Why am I reading?"  
  
"Because I told you to."  
  
"OK then." Looking at the title of the book she'd grabbed, Pippin had to laugh. "Tales of the Elves?"  
  
"You've always loved that one," Pervinca admitted. "You've been so sad today 'cause of Merry and I wanted to make you smile."  
  
"Thank you, 'Vinca." Pippin gave his sister a huge hug and settled in beside her to read. As the afternoon wore on, they continued to read, each taking turns reading one chapter of the book. Various cousins and other siblings wandered into the room until most of the family was curled up around the fire, listening to Pippin and Pervinca read. When Pippin stumbled over a particularly large word, Pervinca softly corrected him and he would continue on as if he hadn't stumbled in the first place. Their parents peeked in from time to time, but left the children alone for the most part.  
  
Pippin's mother had just called the children for dinner when there came the sound of stomping on the front step. Pervinca looked at Pippin, but he just shook his head. It wasn't Merry. Not this late. Rolling his eyes, Paladin got up from the table and opened the front door.  
  
"What is this? A snow-hobbit!" he exclaimed, drawing the figure inside. "Pippin, my lad, look what's finally turned up."  
  
"MERRY!" Tackling his cousin to the floor in a hug, Pippin barely heard his family's laughter as they went to sit down for dinner.  
  
"Geroff!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"GET OFF, I said. You're heavy, Pip," Merry told the younger hobbit, pushing Pippin off his chest so he could sit up.  
  
"What took you so long? I've been expecting you all day!"  
  
"All the roads are snowed-in. I had to help the Gaffer and Bilbo clear the road from the Row up to Bag End just so I could get out! I was visiting Frodo last night and I stayed over. Then when that road was done, we still had all the rest of the roads to and from the Shire to clear. Lucky you, sitting nice and warm all day!"  
  
"You're warm now," said Pippin, putting his arms around Merry's waist. "Even if you are soaking wet!" Laughing, Pippin flicked his now-wet hands in Merry's face and scampered off. Shaking his head, Merry drew off his heavy coat and tossed it into the chair by the fire so it could dry.  
  
Now laughter, and not silence, filled the hallways of the Great Smials. 


	14. Watching

Bronwe: Watching (14/?) By ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction. I am merely using them for my own enjoyment. ;) So don't sue me because I am flat broke.  
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series. A big thank you to everyone who's reviewed this little fic of mine. It's a real blast writing it!  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :)  
  
******  
  
BRONWE - Watching  
  
I remember when I was just a little girl and Mr. Bilbo would tell us all tales of the adventures he'd been on. We'd all sit around his knee and gasp in all the right places when he talked about the trolls. We cheered when he described the defeat of the dragon, Smaug. And we laughed when he told us of his dealings with the dwarves and their strange ways.  
  
I believed those tales, somehow, yet I could never believe his tales of the elves. Nobody could be as beautiful as Mr. Bilbo described them. And everyone knew it was impossible to live forever. But whenever I said so, he'd just laugh at me and tell me "Rosie-lass, you'll learn." And then everyone else would laugh, too, ending the discussion for yet another day. But I knew I wasn't the only one who thought that way.  
  
But what do elves have to do with anything? Nothing, really, except that I remember that while Mr. Bilbo was telling his tales, one of the hobbit- children who always believed in the elves was Merry. And because Merry believed, so did Pippin. It's them I'm watching now, standing here as I am, helping my Mam with the wash. I can see Merry and Pippin in the field across the lane, rooting around for something. Sticks, probably. It's been their game as of late to throw sticks at each other to see who has the best aim. They did that in the gardens of Bag End yesterday and my Samwise got a stick in the forehead. The Gaffer was madder than a wet bee when he saw the mark, but Mr. Bilbo defended them and the Gaffer went away, grumbling. I don't know how Mr. Bilbo punished them, but I imagine his punishment was a lot better than the Gaffer's would have been!  
  
"Rosie-girl, what are you staring at?"  
  
"Nothing, Mam." Nothing other than one almost-grown hobbit and one hobbit who's old enough to know better behaving like a pair of misfit children. But I do have to admit that I love watching them play, un-adultlike as it is. Pippin still has an excuse, but Merry really should know better than to behave like this. Not that I'll ever tattle on them!  
  
"Rose, please tell me your brothers never acted like that," Mam's voice breaks into my thoughts. Merry is currently sitting on Pippin's chest, much to the annoyance of his Took relation. I often wonder when Pippin will learn that when Merry is sitting on him like that, Pippin can't get him off because Merry's bigger than he is, and stronger, although Pippin will never admit to being weaker than Merry. "ROSE!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Mam! My thoughts wandered away on me."  
  
"Right across the road, I'd wager." My Mam's eyes are sharp and I have to look away. She knows me too well. "No daughter of mine would ever behave like those two!" Merry is now mercilessly tickling Pippin and golden laughter spills across the lane.  
  
"Of course not."  
  
"I wouldn't put it past your brothers, though."  
  
"They're boys. They're supposed to act like that." Giving my Mother what I hope is a knowing smile, I fold the last piece of washing and hand it to her to put in her basket.  
  
"Such children," she clucks with a last disparaging look at the pair across the lane. Pippin is yelling something rude at Merry, who is ignoring him and continuing his tickle attack. I wonder if his fingers ever get tired or sore from tickling Pippin so much? "Rose, bring in the other basket, will you?"  
  
"Yes, Mam."  
  
"Will they never grow up?" Muttering under her breath, she makes for home, leaving me standing, still watching.  
  
"I hope they never grow up, Mam," I whisper to myself. Giving a fond smile over my shoulder, I trail behind my mother with my basket of laundry under my arm. 


	15. Dare

Bronwe: Dare (15/?) By ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction. I am merely using them for my own enjoyment. ;) So don't sue me because I am flat broke.  
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series. A big thank you to everyone who's reviewed this little fic of mine. It's a real blast writing it!  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :)  
  
******  
  
Bronwe: Dare  
  
"Merry?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm bored." It was noonday at Brandy Hall and the place was deserted. Merry's parents had gone to visit Bilbo and Frodo and everyone else had also made themselves strangely scarce, leaving Merry and Pippin alone.  
  
"I know, Pip. But there's not a lot we can do." Before leaving, Saradoc had given his son stern instructions to stay out of trouble, which to Saradoc, meant staying inside. Merry didn't mind so much being stuck inside, but it was clearly driving Pippin up the wall.  
  
"We can play a game."  
  
"What kind of game?"  
  
Pippin smiled far too wickedly for his sixteen years. "Come outside with me and I'll tell you."  
  
"Pip! Do you want to get me in trouble?" Merry hissed, even though he knew there was nobody else around.  
  
"We'll be back before they get home. I promise!" Pippin gave Merry his most innocent, pleading look and Merry melted.  
  
"If we do get caught, Peregrin Took, I am placing all the blame on YOU," he muttered under his breath. Pippin just grinned and pulled open the front door.  
  
"After you, Meriadoc." Glancing back nervously, Merry allowed himself to be pushed out into the bright sunlight. "Now, come on! I know a good place where we can hide."  
  
"I thought *I* was the one who lived here?" Merry grumbled good-naturedly, following Pippin as the younger hobbit tore off into the nearby woods comfortably. Pippin's giggle answered him. Not running as fast as they could have, the hobbits soon found themselves next to a wide gushing stream. Across the expanse, Farmer Maggot's fields rose, green, gold and lush. Collapsing on the grass, Merry looked up at his cousin. "Now, what is this wonderful game of yours?"  
  
"Dares!"  
  
"Dares? Pip, aren't you a little old for that?"  
  
Pippin frowned. "What's wrong with it? You're just scared of what I'm going to dare you to do!"  
  
"That's it, yes." Merry rolled his eyes. "I just think it's a child's game, that's all."  
  
"Fine then. We won't play it." Pippin's tone was injured and he turned his back to Merry, staring out over the water of the river.  
  
"Pippin." No response. "Pippin, come on."  
  
"It's just a stupid *child's* game anyway," Pippin said finally. "I didn't really want to play."  
  
"You're impossible, Pippin Took," Merry sighed. "Look, we'll play your game for a while. It's not a stupid child's game."  
  
"You're just saying that to make me feel better."  
  
"No, I'm not. Come on, I'll even dare you first."  
  
"Mean it?"  
  
"Yeah. You ready?"  
  
Pippin's eyes were bright in anticipation. "Dare me!"  
  
Thinking fast, Merry caught sight of a bird's nest in the tree beside him. "I dare you to climb up to that nest and steal an egg out of it."  
  
"Watch me!" With that, Pippin was off, climbing the tree with the ease of a child who grew up in and around the woods of the Shire. "Gotcha! He crowed, then paused. "Merry, what do you want me to do with the egg once I've got it?"  
  
"Show me you have it and then put it back."  
  
"Here then." Pippin slid down the tree to one of the lower branches, displaying his prize. "I got your silly egg."  
  
"Go put it back and come down then. You're too good for me!"  
  
"One for Pippin!" Grinning widely, Pippin bowed once he was out of the tree. "My turn. I dare you. I dare you go out into the middle of the river and catch a fish. Using ONLY your hands."  
  
"Pippin! My da will catch us for sure! I can't walk into Brandy Hall wearing wet clothes!"  
  
"Then take them off and do it, I don't care."  
  
Merry blinked. "Fine then. I just hope the walk back cures my clothes of being wet!" But he did take off his weskit and tunic, not wanting them to get wet. His mother would kill him as surely as his father would. Throwing a last glance at Pippin, Merry waded into the water slowly, shivering at the cold. Determined not to let a child eight years his junior get the best of him, he and studied the water around him where small ripples indicated the presence of fish. Thanking, Merry began plotting how best to catch the slippery little creatures.  
  
"We don't have all day!" Pippin called from the shore.  
  
"Shut up, I'm thinking."  
  
"Well, think faster. I'm getting hungry."  
  
Hands darting out quickly, Merry soon had a struggling fish in his hands. "You were saying?"  
  
Laughing, Pippin said, "Okay, let it go. One for Merry!"  
  
"Our score is tied, Master Took."  
  
"So it is, Master Brandybuck. What is your dare?" Pippin suddenly became nervous at the evil grin that crossed Merry's face.  
  
"I dare you to go over to Farmer Maggot's field and steal mushrooms. By yourself."  
  
Pippin's eyes widened. "What?"  
  
"You heard me. Or are you *scared*?"  
  
"No..." Pippin's voice trailed off and he looked across the water nervously. "I just don't like his dogs."  
  
"Run fast and they won't catch you! If you do this, I'll forfeit the rest of the game. I'll even tell your sisters that you've the bravest hobbit ever."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Promise. Now, go!"  
  
"This will be the easiest dare ever!" Scampering easily across the stream, Pippin vanished into the tall stalks of corn. When, after five minutes, the younger hobbit still wasn't back, Merry began to get worried. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. Twenty minutes. Finally, Merry stood up. Enough was enough-he was going to go find Pippin. Just then, barking dogs and squeals of pain alerted Merry that someone was approaching on the other side and he hid just as Farmer Maggot emerged from the field, dragging Pippin behind him by the ear while four dogs crowded around their feet, barking loudly.  
  
"OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" Pippin howled.  
  
"Fool of a Took!" Maggot yelled, throwing the younger hobbit into the stream. Sputtering, Pippin turned a fierce glare on the farmer, who merely glared back. "Your father will hear about this, Peregrin! Mark my words, boy!" With that, Maggot disappeared back into his field, the barking of his dogs fading into the distance.  
  
"Pip?" Merry ventured, emerging from his hiding place. "Are you okay?" Pippin was still standing in the middle of the stream, shoulders shaking. At first, Merry thought he might be crying, but no sounds were coming from the boy in front of him. Finally Pippin turned to look at Merry and his eyes were full of what could only be described as terror.  
  
"He'll tell, just like he promised! And my da will kill me!"  
  
"What happened?" Merry soothed, putting an arm around Pippin's shoulders and guiding him out of the water.  
  
"I'd just grabbed a couple of mushrooms when this. thing. landed on me. It was only when it started barking that I realized it was one of Maggot's dogs. He caught me, Merry. What am I going to DO? I guess I'm not so brave after all."  
  
"We'll think of something. Maybe he won't write to Uncle Paladin?"  
  
Pippin shook his head. "He will. He's been fishing for a reason to get me in trouble for years. 'Cept he's never caught me till today."  
  
"I'm sorry I dared you to do that, Pip," Merry finally said. "I never meant for this to happen."  
  
"I know." Pippin tried to smile, although he still looked terrified. "At least your clothes are dry now, so you won't get into any trouble at home." The two walked back into the Brandy Hall in silence, thankfully finding the hole as quiet as before.  
  
Opening the front door, Merry turned to look at Pippin. "I still think you're the bravest hobbit I've ever known." With that, he vanished into the kitchen, leaving Pippin standing in the hallway, a confused expression on his face. 


	16. Trouble

Bronwe: Trouble (16/?) By ALBA  
  
******  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction. I am merely using them for my own enjoyment. ;) So don't sue me because I am flat broke.  
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my beloved, nasty elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series. A big thank you to everyone who's reviewed this little fic of mine. It's a real blast writing it!  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to http://www.jrrvf.com/~hisweloke/cgi-bin/sintrans.cgi). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :)  
  
******  
  
Bronwe: Trouble  
  
"PEREGRIN!" came the roar from The Took's study. Said child cringed in his bedroom, knowing his father only shouted like that when he was in serious trouble. "PEREGRIN TOOK, IF YOU DON'T ANSWER ME RIGHT THIS SECOND, SO HELP ME, YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO SIT *OR* STAND FOR A WEEK!"  
  
"Coming, Da," Pippin called back, trying not to sound as terrified as he felt. Slipping out of his room, he crept down the hall silently until he stood outside his father's study. Nervously peeking around the door, his spirits sank even further when he saw the look on his father's face.  
  
"Sit down," The Took ordered tersely, pointing at a chair before his desk. Pippin sat down in a hurry. "I've had a letter," Paladin continued, tapping a letter on the table beside him. "A very interesting letter. Do you know what it says?"  
  
Heart sinking, Pippin tried to play innocent. "No, Da."  
  
"Apparently, a certain child of mine and that Brandybuck brat have been in Farmer Maggot's fields, causing TROUBLE."  
  
"Merry's not-"  
  
"SILENCE!" Paladin thundered, shaking his desk with the force of his voice. Pippin fought the urge to hide under his chair. The Took continued, "I am *very* disappointed in you, Peregrin. You KNOW you're not allowed to go into Maggot's fields! Yet you disobeyed me. And what's even WORSE is that he caught you stealing mushrooms! Mushrooms! My own son is a common thief because of some damn mushrooms!"  
  
"But Da."  
  
"I thought I told you to be silent! I'll have none of your excuses and lies, boy."  
  
"It was a joke, Da. A dare."  
  
"A JOKE?" Paladin laughed in a decidedly non-humorous way. "So disobeying your father is a JOKE now?"  
  
"That's not what I meant!" Pippin protested, half-rising out of his chair. "We didn't mean any harm!"  
  
"SIT DOWN AND BE SILENT!" Pippin sat back down and his father glared at him, interlocking his fingers as he thought. "You will be punished, of course," Paladin said finally. "And I will be writing to Saradoc Brandybuck, if Farmer Maggot has not done so himself. One way or another, Saradoc will know what a troublemaker his son is."  
  
"Blame me! It was my idea!"  
  
"I don't care whose idea it was, Peregrin Took! Meriadoc is old enough to know better than to go along with your childish games."  
  
"Yes, Da." Knowing he was never going to win this argument, Pippin just sat back in his chair.  
  
"As for your punishment." Paladin looked down at the letter again. "You are confined to the hole for the next two months-" Pippin looked up, again, eyes wide "-and you will have no visitors. Your meals will be taken in your room, not with the rest of the family. And each night you will come in here and tell me what you did wrong and why you will never do it again."  
  
Thinking he had gotten off fairly lightly, Pippin sighed. "Yes, Da."  
  
"I'm not finished yet. Even when your punishment is over, Peregrin, you will have no contact with Meriadoc."  
  
Pippin looked at his father in horror. Not to be allowed to see Merry! "DA!"  
  
"SILENCE! You seem to get in the most trouble when you are with him. Therefore, you will no longer be allowed to see him." I will also inform Saradoc of my decision, so he can tell that brat of his not to come around." Nodding, Paladin picked up a quill from the inkpot on his desk. "You will go to your room now. If I hear one peep out of you until tomorrow at noonday, I shall beat you within an inch of your life."  
  
"Yes, Da," Pippin murmured, staring at the floor.  
  
"Your mother may bring you something later for dinner."  
  
"Yes, Da."  
  
"And I mean what I said about that Brandybuck brat. You're not to see him at all anymore. Not even if that means you don't go to any birthday parties, or visits with relations. He's been far too negative an influence on you. Now go before I change my mind and give you the beating you deserve!"  
  
"Yes, Da," Pippin whispered before fleeing the room, fighting back tears. Once safely back in his own room, he locked the door and flung himself on his bed, letting the tears fall freely.  
  
"Stupid, stupid hobbit-child!" he yelled at himself. "You just had to go and do that now, didn't you? Why didn't you say no when Merry dared you to steal mushrooms? Why did you even challenge Merry to that stupid game anyway?" Pounding his fist on the bed fiercely, Pippin cursed himself with every word he knew. His stupidity had cost him his best friend. Being confined to his room was nothing new, but not being allowed to see Merry was going to be the hardest thing.  
  
"And it's my own fault," Pippin muttered sadly, sitting up and staring out the window, tears still streaming down his face. "All my fault." 


	17. Puppy

Bronwe: Puppy  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. I merely borrowed them and will return them when I'm finished with them. I am making no money off this fiction. I am merely using them for my own enjoyment. ;) So don't sue me because I am flat broke.  
  
DEDICATION: For Kris, my nasty little elfslut. :) For Janelle, my smutmuse who gives me the needed boots to the head. And to Daisy Gamgee for her kind words and her go-ahead for me to write this series.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Bronwe" is Sindarin for "enduring, lasting quality, faith" (according to ). No, Elves don't have anything to do with the story. I just liked the word. :)  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: One of my reviewers (I can't remember who, I'm sorry) mentioned that they thought I'm making Merry and Pippin sound too young. Well. I can see your point, but I'm not exactly sure how fast hobbits mature in relation to humans. They don't 'come of age' until they're 33, so perhaps they mature more slowly? Or maybe I'm just grasping at straws, I don't know. At any rate, it was a point taken and I shall think about it in upcoming chapters. *grin*  
*****  
  
"Pippin, I have something for you," Pervinca coaxed from the other side of her brother's closed door. He'd been locked in his room for the better part of the week, only coming out long enough for meals, and even then he ate quickly and without his customary appetite. Their mother was starting to get worried, so Pervinca decided to do something about it. She just hoped her brother appreciated it.  
  
"Go away," came the response.  
  
"But it's a present!"  
  
"Not your birthday."  
  
"Peregrin Took, open this door right now! You'll like this present! I promise!"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Oh, come on. He's looking forward to seeing you."  
  
"He?" Pippin bounded off his bed and threw open the door. "Is it Merry?"  
  
"No, honey, it's not Merry," Pervinca said, heart clenching as her brother's face fell.  
  
"Then don't want. what the?" Pippin had nearly tripped over Pervinca's 'gift'. "A puppy?"  
  
Pervinca grinned, entering the room fully and closing the door behind her. "I got him from Farmer Proudfoot down the road. His dog had a litter a few months back and this little guy was the only one left. I thought you might like him."  
  
Pippin studied the tiny animal, who seemed to be studying him right back. The dog's big brown eyes were looking right into his own as if he knew exactly what Pippin was thinking. "He's kind of cute." The puppy was completely black except for a few brown patches down his back. It looked like someone had taken a can of paint and dripped it over the length of him.  
  
"I knew you'd like my present!"  
  
"Never said I liked him. Just said he was cute."  
  
Pervinca glared at her younger brother. "Peregrin."  
  
"He's just a stupid dog."  
  
The dog howled suddenly, scaring both children before glaring almost accusingly at Pippin. Pervinca blanched at the noise and looked worriedly at the door. When no adults barged in, she relaxed a bit.  
  
"He's not stupid, Pippin," said Pervinca smugly. "He understood what you just said. Didn't you, boy?" She bent down to scratch the dog's head. "Such a good boy!"  
  
"If you like him so much then you keep him."  
  
"He's for you."  
  
"I don't want him, 'Vinca. I don't want anybody but my Merry!"  
  
"Honey, you know Da doesn't want Merry around here anymore. I thought. I thought that maybe a puppy would make you feel better about not having your best friend here anymore."  
  
"It doesn't."  
  
"Give him a chance? Please?" Pervinca turned her big pleading eyes on her brother, knowing he'd never been able to say no to her before when she did that.  
  
"Alright," Pippin sighed. "Does Da know about this?"  
  
"Um." Pervinca blushed. "No?"  
  
Pippin laughed out loud. "How'd you manage to sneak him in here?"  
  
"Don't ask. Let's just say that being a girl can be a good thing sometimes."  
  
"How are we going to hide him from Da now that he is here?"  
  
"Well, he can stay in here during the day."  
  
"What about when he needs to. You know."  
  
"Ooooooooooh." Pervinca blushed. "Um. Teach him how to use a pail?"  
  
"Or maybe we'll just sneak him out the same way you got him in!"  
  
Pervinca laughed, smothering the sound with a hand to prevent anyone from checking to see what the noise was all about. "We'll figure something out. Maybe we can train him or something."  
  
"Maybe." Pippin looked at the puppy, still sitting quietly on the floor beside his new master's feet. "He's so little."  
  
"I think he was the runt. And he's still pretty little."  
  
"Kind of like me."  
  
"Yes, honey." Pervinca smiled almost sadly at Pippin before fighting the sadness back down. "Well, now that we've decided to keep him, what are you going to name him?"  
  
Pippin thought about it for a bit before he smiled. "Merry."  
  
Pervinca blinked. "You're going to name the puppy Merry?"  
  
"If I can't have the real Merry, then at least I can have him." Pippin bent down to greet his newly named pet, missing the tears that suddenly filled Pervinca's eyes.  
  
"Hello, Merry," she whispered after a while, swallowing her tears and smiling down at the brown-and-black puppy. "Welcome to the family." 


End file.
